


Feel Again

by Queenie7



Category: Marriage Story (2019)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:33:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24219691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenie7/pseuds/Queenie7
Summary: *Takes place soon after the end of Marriage Story* You meet Charlie Barber at a bookstore. You fall for him instantly, and as your relationship grows, Charlie wonders can he move on and love again?
Relationships: Charlie Barber/Reader, Charlie Barber/You
Kudos: 13





	Feel Again

You could feel the sunlight shining through the windows of the bookstore you were browsing through. It was a small, independent bookstore that had a mini café, showcased local authors and had writer’s events, it was the kind of bookstore that was hard to come across. It reminded you of the local bookstore back home that was your favorite, and this place in Los Angeles made it almost feel like home. You were a new transport to the city of angels, the decision to move was both easy and difficult. Your first book, a memoir, was well-received and made into a film whose screenplay you helped write. Your first novel was successful, and was now being made into a television series by a streaming service. When the producers ask you to be a consult on the series, you decided to move to LA and make a new life. You also taught seminars on writing and history at USC. You loved the warm weather, it was perfect for you to start your own little garden at the bungalow you were leasing, plus your dog, Freckles, loved having a yard.

You browse the aisles and you grab a Russian history book before grabbing _Meditations_ by Marcus Aurelius, a copy of Marina Carr’s latest play, and a couple new releases. On your way to the registers, you see a tall, handsome man with a pile of books head in the same direction. Your eyes meet and it gives you butterflies, it was the kind of thing writers write about but you had never experienced in real life before. You take a good look at him and notice he’s everything you find attractive in a man: tall, broad-shouldered with dark, thick hair, well-dressed, and obviously he has good taste for bookstores. He’s not wearing a wedding band either, you’re sure to make a mental note of that.

“Marina Carr is a brilliant playwright, one of the best of modern day.” He says, pointing towards the pile of books you’re carrying and he steps forward to the register. It takes you a moment to gather your thoughts and compose yourself before saying, “She’s one of my favorite writers. I’ve never actually seen any of her plays performed though.”

“There’s nothing like seeing a play being performed. I’m a theater director so I might be biased.” He chuckles and smiles at you. You can’t help but smile back at him, you respond with, “Well I’m a writer so I have a bias in favor of printed word.”

“Can’t argue with that, what do you write?” The man asks and you tell him that you’ve wrote a memoir, a novel, and are now writing screenplays. He goes to introduce himself, but his phone rings and he has to answer. He turns and says a few words hurriedly into the phone before turning back. He then says to you, “I’m sorry but I’ve got to get to work, it was really nice talking to you, I hope I’ll see you again.” He extends his hand to you and you take it. You notice that even though it was brief that his hand was warm and much larger than yours. You smile, nod, and watch him walk out of the store.

You wonder if he’s a regular here, and then you begin to calculate how often you can make the trip to this bookstore. Maybe you should stop in more, and hopefully see him another time. You were intrigued and wanted to know more about him. But this was a big city, full of people moving in their own directions and it was more likely than not that you would never see him again.

*********************************************************

It’s been a week since your encounter with the attractive, mystery man at the bookstore, and now you were on the other coast. Your former sorority sister, Blair, lived in NYC and convinced you to come visit her for the weekend. The two of you were now crammed in her small bathroom, trying to put on your makeup for the night while fitting in as much girl talk as possible. She was an off-Broadway actress, and you two were going out with some of her theater people. You had met several of them before when you were visiting and you looked forward to seeing them again. But you always felt sort of out of place with them because you weren’t a theater person and didn’t understand all of the inside jokes.

The bar is already buzzing and you love the vintage, art deco style that exudes from the place. Blair is talking to a couple of people that she knows. She’s introduced to several of them, but you decide that it’s time to get a drink so you saunter off towards the bar. The man sitting there looks vaguely familiar but you can’t place him, until you’ve taken your seat, and given your order which makes him turn to look at you. _Wow_ , _it’s_ _the_ _mystery_ _man_ or his doppelganger. He’s pretty unique looking so you figure it has to be him. Then it hits you, it is definitely the mystery man from Chevalier books with his signature style. You wonder: how did you possibly run into him again on the other side of the country? You can tell by the look on his face that he recognizes you at the same time, before breaking the silence.

“You’re the writer from Chevalier books, I can’t believe I’ve ran into you again, and in New York of all places.” He says and stands up to move closer to you. You can’t help but follow suit and stand with your drink and take a step near him so you’re within a few feet of him. Trying not to be distracted by his freckles and hair that looks soft, instead, you smile and comment back, “You know what they say about a small world. I’m here visiting an old friend, what about you?”

“I actually just moved to LA fulltime from New York, I’ve spent the past year commuting. I’m Charlie, Charlie Barber, and I regretted not getting your name last time I saw you.” He sticks out his hand to you, you take it then you nod your head for him to follow you. You sit together in the booth near where Blair is still chatting away. She notices you walk through and raises her eyebrows at you suggestively.

“I’m Y/N L/N, and I moved to LA only a few months ago. I had been commuting for a while then I decided I liked it well enough to live there fulltime. You do definitely strike me as a New York guy though.” You take a large sip of your drink, but you’re really feeling intoxicated by Charlie. There is something about that man that’s making you lose your head already. You were doomed, you knew it.

“This place was my life for so long. You don’t strike me as an LA girl or as a New York girl either.” He says and you hear the pang of sadness in his voice during the first sentence, for a theater director New York is the dream place to be, it must have been difficult for him to move. You’re curious what made him decide to leave the city he obviously loves, but you’ll save that question for later.

“I’m from a really small town in rural America, but I’ve spent the past few years travelling abroad while writing.” You’re used to explaining your accent, and you feel like you don’t really belong in any city. The two of you have moved closer to each other in the booth to where your sides are practically touching. You can feel the warmth radiating from him, and you take notice of his plump lips that look perfect for kissing. He leans in closer to you and his honey brown eyes watch yours.

“Where was your favorite place?”

“London has always been my favorite. I loved the architecture and culture of Florence,” you say as Blair and some of her friends join you at the booth. Charlie’s arm brushes against yours, and your leg tucks underneath his.

“Hi Charlie, hi Y/N. So do you guys know each other or did you just now meet?” Blair asks and you realize that Blair already knows Charlie. Of course she does as it hits you that they would have the connection in the theater world. Charlie answers her question, “We bumped into each other in a bookstore in LA, and then we were surprised to find each other here.”

“Hmm maybe it’s fate or the universe.” Blair says bluntly and you almost choke on your drink. Charlie eyes you and smiles so you smile back. It might actually be fate, you think. Not that you were sure you believed in fate though. You notice a brunette that joined your table is giving a major side eye, to the point that it’s nearly a flat-out glare. You think her name is Mary Ann but you can’t remember for sure. You and Charlie continue your semi-private conversation, oblivious to the people around you.

“I ended up moving to LA for business reasons, to work on some screenplays. What about you?” You ask because you want to know what made him leave New York. You could also sense there was more underneath that he was leaving out. He had no obligation to tell you anything but you wanted to know everything about him.

“My son. My now ex-wife is an actress who unilaterally decided to just leave New York permanently for LA and take our son with her. After all that commuting for a year, I realized I needed to be there for Henry, so I took a residency at UCLA and got in with a well-respected theater company.” He grips his drink when he says that and you can tell it’s still a sore subject.

“Oh I’m sorry, that’s awful. I’m sure your son will appreciate your sacrifices when he gets older, and I’m sure it’s always worth it to put time in for your kid. When I was still practicing law, I would see all these couples tear each other apart to the point they ignored what they were putting their kid through.” You try to comfort him, and you admire his dedication to his son. You couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to divorce him.

“Henry just turned nine, any time with him is well worth it. Nicole and I tried to keep civil then it got nasty fast, and now we’ve cycled back where we co-parent effectively. You’re a lawyer too?” He asks you as his hand purposefully brushes yours. Your pinky reaches to hold onto his and he smiles at you while his eyes bore into yours.

“Regrettably, I graduated law school even though I knew it wasn’t for me, then I practiced for a brief time. I eventually accepted that it was draining me and making me miserable so I pursued writing, what I really wanted to do, and got my master’s in history.” You tell him and you just then notice that the two of you are alone in the booth again.

The two of you chat throughout the night about favorite books, movies, plays. You laugh as you watch the rest of your group participate in karaoke. Then they urge Charlie onstage, and you push him playfully in encouragement. He relents and goes. You can’t believe his voice, it’s beautiful and he remains eye contact with you during the entire song. You can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Can I get your number? It haunted me that I didn’t that day at the bookstore.” Charlie says as you come to a stop outside the bar. Blair is waiting for you but giving you space and privacy. It’s relieving to know he feels the same way. Your hand intertwines with his, and you respond smiling.

“Of course. The haunting went both ways.” He hands you his phone so you can add your number. You hand it back to him, and his hand goes around your waist, while yours grip his bicep.

“When we’re both in LA, can I take you out for dinner?” He asks innocently and you start nodding your head yes, and you’re certain you must look like a dashboard bobble head.

“Oh like a date?” You question incredulously. His hand rubs small circle on your waist and it feels electric. Damn, you’re already in too deep. You might as well write ‘sucker’ on your forehead, but you control yourself and try not to sound too eager.

“Yeah like a date, unless you don’t want it to be a date.” He looks like he’s hopeful, but he’s clearly questioning himself. He wants to give you a chance to back out and let you pace the relationship. If he only knew how into him you already were.

“No a date sounds fantastic. I really like you, and I had fun tonight.” You say and find yourself drifting even closer to him, if that was possible.

“Oh yeah? Good because I really like you too.” Then his hand cups your face ever so slowly and he descends his lips on yours. His lips are warm and soft against yours, your hands find their way to his chest then up around his neck. His tongue licks your bottom lip requesting entrance, which you give. You devour each other like you’ve been starving. Then, you both return to reality grinning as you slowly separate. You each are wearing a guilty-grin as go your separate ways for now.

***************************************************************

This was your third official date with Charlie, and everything felt right. Your first date was dinner at an Italian place with drinks afterward at bar with rooftop terrace. The next morning, you grabbed breakfast and coffee together before heading to work. The second date was a picnic in the park, then exploring an outdoor art exhibit, and the next day you met for lunch. Tonight you went to see an Ibsen play and out for desserts. The two of you spent most of your time together talking about everything, and the dates would last for hours. He would talk about Henry, his previous marriage, and his upcoming play. You would talk about your books, screenplays, and your dogs. You had so much in common, it was crazy, but you also were different enough to keep it interesting. You could see it growing into love and becoming a long-term relationship. You were now walking back to his car, holding hands.

“Wow. I didn’t know if I could feel like this. I feel like the world is spinning, but in the best way. You know how in the summer when you first get in the car and you can feel the warmth, that’s how I feel when I’m with you.” You admit and you know it sounds cheesy. Before you really get to gauge his reaction, his lips are on yours, desperately as his hands wrap around your waist. He’s pulling you flush against him and you can feel both his heart pounding and his growing bulge against you. And fuck, he already feels big, but it would only make sense that he be proportionate. He stares into your eyes with his amber ones and tells you, “I never thought I could feel this way again, but here I am. I’m crazy for you.” You crash your mouth to his again, pulling him close, and you move your hips against his bulge.

“You don’t have Henry this weekend, right?” You ask as you pant for air, pulling away from him briefly. He looks at you quizzically, trying to understand why you brought that up at this moment. Oh sweet, Charlie. You were going to take him home tonight and wreck him, but he thought you were meaning something else. You had wanted to bed him ever since that night in New York but you didn’t want to rush things or cheapen your connection. You had even wore a sexier dress tonight, had lace lingerie on underneath, and had a recent wax appointment. He answers, “No, not this weekend. What’s up?”

“Good, you can stay at my place tonight then,” you chuckle and you watch as what you said clicks in his head. He leans and gives you a steamy kiss right under your ear, and he works his way down your neck. You can feel the heat gathering in your belly from just that, and you’re starting to get wet so you rub your thighs together desperately.

You pull away from him only so you could get to his car. Driving to your place, Charlie placed his hand on your knee and you wrapped your hand around his, though you wanted nothing more than to move it upward between your legs, but you held yourself back. You could tell he was just as excited and eager as you were because he was hard already and his driving was faster than normal. Your eyes kept catching his and you were practically eye-fucking. Upon arrival in your driveway, he rushes out to open the car door for you.

You step out and you both fast-walk towards your door. While you fumble with the keys, Charlie steps behind you and wraps his arms around your waist as your back is pressed into his chest. That’s certainly not helping your concentration. His hand creeps up so it’s under your breast, and his fingers trace your ribs. To make matters worse, his lips attach to your neck again and you can’t suppress the moan that comes out of your lips. You want to throw your head back and rock into him, but you need to get inside the bungalow first then he can fuck against the door or on the floor for all you care. You finally turn the key in the door and the instant you and Charlie step through the frame, you’re on each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Smut ahead!


End file.
